Midnight Musings
by Kit49
Summary: DN He had begun to notice young men turning their head at her passing, but he had never really considered that she might love one of them. Daine asks Numair a loaded question, and he does his best to answer. Some fluff here and there.


PLEASE READ: Just a warning, I loaded this one shot with semi naughty double entendre and puns, but they're hidden, so if you blink you'll miss them. Also, this story takes place pre D/N ship, but Numair is pretty confused about _what_ exactly he feels for her. The last couple of paragraphs could be taken either way (platonic love or whatnot). Read it as you will. And of course, it would be fantastic if you (yes _you_) would review.

Disclaimer: If I'm getting paid to do this, I definitely need to ask for a raise. (AKA- Tamora Pierce owns everything).

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A knock at his door interrupted Numair Salmalin's mode of deep concentration. "I'm busy," he said to the knocker, hoping futilely that they would leave him to read in peace. He heard the scrape of wood and metal as his visitor leaned against the locked door in an effort to open it.

"Numair," a soft voice called through the barrier, "it's Daine."

Numair sighed audibly and stood from his comfortable chair, placing his book on a table as he made his way toward the door. He opened it to find his young student wearing her nightdress and a light cloak for modesty.

"I was not able to sleep," she said as he stood back to let her in. "Whenever I close my eyes I start thinking about things and can't get any rest."

Numair laughed outright as they sat down on a couch near the fire, earning him a puzzled look from Daine. "I'm rubbing off on you, Magelet. Too often do I have sleepless nights because of an overactive mind."

Daine's brows creased with worry. She had not realized that he suffered from occasional insomnia. He noticed her concerned look and said, "I've learned to deal with it. I suppose it is the negative side affect of being brilliant." Numair winked at Daine, who merely rolled her eyes in response to his playful boasting. "I've found that reading helps actually," he briefly gestured toward the book he had been reading earlier, "and often I will write my thoughts down. It helps to empty my head."

"I doubt if your head will ever be empty, Numair," Daine commented with a smile.

Numair smiled back. "Yes, well I can make an attempt at least."

After a moment of silence, he reached across the short distance between them and took her hand in his own, squeezing it lightly. "What is it you were thinking of? Maybe I can help ease your worry."

Daine felt herself blushing at the idea of telling him her nagging thoughts. Despite knowing that she had not traveled the distance between their rooms at an ungodly hour only to keep silent, she was still starting to feel rather silly about the whole affair. "It seems fair idiotic now."

Numair scooted closer to her. "I doubt it," he said gently. He looked into her eyes, and with the blazing fire reflected in the black, she began to feel her muscles loosen and her mind clear. Maybe, just _maybe_, she could tell him without him thinking her a fool.

"Well…" she hesitated, pulling her hand away from his and placing it on her own cheek. Her face was hot from her blush, or perhaps from the fire. She looked into the flames, exposing her soft neck to him. His eyes innocently traveled across her jaw line, noticing the beauty and youth there as she found the courage to voice her inner workings. She called on her bravery and took the plunge. "I don't quite know why, but my mind won't let me rest until I understand the different loves."

Daine, wondering if her foolishness was yet concluded upon, looked to him. "Well _that's _a funny face," she remarked in response to his look of bewilderment.

He shook his head and the funny face disappeared to be replaced by one of characteristic amusement. "I'm sorry. That was not quite what I was expecting."

"What were you expecting?"

"Something along the lines of ethics and animals."

"Oh."

They sat in silence for a moment, he digesting her comment, and she letting his wheels turn unhindered. Finally he spoke. "What exactly do you mean when you say 'loves'?"

She pondered, then began slowly. "Well, I loved my ma and granda, and I love my friends and the people," she paused," and I'm beginning to imagine what it would be like to love a man."

Numair paused his own mental process at hearing this. He had begun to notice young men turning their heads at her passing, but he had never really considered that she might think about loving one of them. Everything about her screamed practicality, and yet here she was confessing to philosophical and even romantic thoughts.

"There is a difference," she continued, "between my love for my family and my love for my friends, and I am certain that love for a man would feel different too. In Snowsdale there was a girl who loved a man that her family did not approve of. She ran away with him. Why? Was her love for him stronger than her love for her family?"

The mage let her finish before replying. "I did not know the girl, so I cannot answer for certain. There was obviously a degree of physical attraction, needs that her family could not satisfy, among other things."

"Yes, but what are those other things?"

He shook his head in apology. "Daine, I am a man of the head, not of the heart. As far as I know there is no scientific explanation for the different loves. Until there is such a one, I am afraid that I am just as lost as you are."

She looked at him closely, searching his face for an answer to her unasked question. He could sense her disbelief of his unsatisfactory answer, and read the question in her grey eyes. He sighed. He had hoped that it would not come to this, but alas, she was relentless.

"Despite the gossip that surrounds myself and certain ladies of the court, which may or may not be true," he added, "I still know very little of real love."

Daine still was not sure if she believed him. "You couldn't of been involved with all those women and not fallen in love with even one of them."

The mage considered this for a moment. He then spoke softly, as if afraid that the voice would press hard upon his tender heart. "Once I loved." He was lost in a sea of silk, blond locks, and perfume sweet enough to quench the thirst of any man.

"Do you not love her anymore? I thought that kind of love would be permanent."

Numair sighed, rubbing his tired eyes. "I loved her," he began, "because I loved myself, and she encouraged that. It was a time when I wanted my Black Robe because I wanted prestige. We were frivolous. I am not at all proud of my history." He gazed into the fire, lost in his thoughts.

"People change, Daine. In every aspect we evolve, and that growth comes from our challenges and experiences. She was beautiful but cosmetic to the core. I was caught between her beauty and my academics. I loved her for her youth and spirit, but she lacked a depth that I desire."

He looked at Daine again and noticed the calm look of one who has been listening intently. "Do you wish she was with you still?" she asked.

"Sometimes, but then I remember what I have here and life continues." He winked at her and she grinned back. "But in regards to the so called 'loves', I do not know."

Daine raised an eyebrow. "At last, the great mage is stumped."

"For the first and last time, I can assure you," he replied with humor. An idea struck him that he had not before considered. "Daine, is there someone in particular that inspired your midnight musings?"

"No," she answered.

The momentary tension that had gathered in his chest released with relief. He did not much relish the idea of giving up his student to another man's care anytime soon.

"The thoughts came from nowhere," she shrugged. "I'm just curious I guess."

"A woman after my own heart," the man said. "No wonder we make such an ingenious pair."

Daine smiled and nodded, trying to ignore the beat her heart had skipped when he called her a woman. She had always been referred to as a child, and now, when her self-understanding was at its weakest, his reference to her maturity was beginning to present new possibilities. "Yes, I suppose we do fit, in an odd sort of way."

Numair smiled at her, and suddenly Daine felt self-conscious. Here he was, this wonderful man who had already done so much for her, discussing her girlish worries as if it were something important to him. At that moment she felt an overwhelming shower of warmth run through her body, and without thinking twice, she leaned forward and embraced him in a tight hug. The sudden force of her body leaning on his pushed him back so he was resting on the arm of the couch. He returned the embrace with no hesitation and smiled to himself.

She brought him joy. Pure, unadulterated joy that no other person or thing in the world could bring him; and lying there with the simmering fire and her so comfortably near him, he felt his love for her throb so strongly within his body that he was almost sure that _she _could feel it.

They stayed that way for a long time, her head tucked under his own, his arms surrounding her and keeping her safe. Finally, when the fire had nearly gone out, Numair shifted himself to look at her face. "Daine," he called softly. She did not answer. Her eyes were closed, signifying her deep slumber.

In that state of self somewhere between sleep and consciousness, Numair took his hand from her back and touched her cheek. "Sleep well, Magelet," he whispered to her. He then kissed her curls and leaned his head back on the couch, allowing sleep to envelope him in its web.


End file.
